


Bedtime Reading

by kamui (whitearrow)



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 07:16:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4995232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitearrow/pseuds/kamui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marx happens upon Kamui's smutty literature, and decides that he can do much better. Inspired by otpprompts on tumblr. Crossposted from tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedtime Reading

Kamui had been engrossed in one of her more…risque literature last night. Typically she read it when she’s sure that no one is around, but either she was too tired or too distracted to realize that marx had come into the room. In a stupid bout of fear, she’d quickly tossed it under the bed, letting it skitter across the tile to who knows where. He’d asked what it was, but she’d insisted that it was simply her diary, and that under no circumstances was he to read it. “Of course, love,” he’d said, kissed her forehead, and slipped into bed to retire for the night.

She should have known better.

Marx casually stands next to the bookshelf in their chambers…holding a book with a worn green binding she knows all too well. The book seems to be already at the halfway point. Oh no. Kamui feel her stomach plummeting into her shoes, ready to be stomped all over. He…he couldn’t have gotten this far.

“'And so, my princess…Will you let me serve you in your most favorite way?’ the butler purred, sauntering over to the young woman with a hungry glint in his eye. ‘Yes’ she sighed as her chest heaved forward, ready to become clay to be molded under his fine, slender hands.’” Marx is reading excerpts from the book! She knows exactly how this scene goes, and she’s going to stop him. (Even if this isn’t the first smutty scene in the novel, she’ll salvage what shame she can). “‘Won’t you ask a little more nicely, I work ever so hard for you,’ he says, curling a finger up her—“ Kamui launches herself at Marx, her arms wrapped around his neck as she tries to kick away the book out of his greedy grasp. He’s laughing boisterously at her expense, and she deeply regrets not hiding the book at her first chance…she’s never regretted anything more.

“You promised not to look!”

“I promised to not read your diary,” he says smoothly, as he holds the book out of her reach, yet still close enough to read from. ‘My princess…there is nothing I want to do but to carry out your wishes…’ I believe this quote from chapter four expresses my sentiment quite nicely—“ She makes another grab, and he still manages to escape his beloved wife. He flips to the next page, and that’s when Kamui finally leaps off of him and takes away the book in one fell swoop.

“Aha!” she cheers victoriously, and hides the book behind her back. “What are you going to do now?”

He looks her over up and down until the poor woman is blushing. Then a smirk makes its way on to the prince’s lips, and he puts a hand against the wall, and the other under her chin. “So,” he leans in and whispers. “Is this the sort of thing my little princess fantasizes about? A butler and a princess…engaging in very…rigorous acts of love making.” His nose presses against hers, and he flits out his tongue to run along her bottom lip. “It’s not always rigorous,” she corrects him under her slightly haggard breath, and he quirks his brow. “Nothing.”

“No? Should I be concerned? After all, you’ve got a very devoted butler…not much unlike the butler in this book? I fear that you’ve penned this novel yourself,” his eyes dart to the front cover, as though inspecting the real name of the author.

“It’s just fiction!”

He ignores her. “Although…there are times where he takes charge…, yet he’s…hmph, I know I’ll fare much better than this half-baked lover,” Marx says with scorn. It’s a little difficult to believe that he’s done so much analysis on an erotic novel. He moves away his hand from her chin to the back of her head. “You must have low expectations of how kisses work, if you believe in that drivel.”

“But I’ve kissed you many times before. Believe me Marx, the bar is high.”

“It better be,” Marx replies smugly. “It won’t hurt to give you a reminder though…” He captures her bottom lip between his, and marks it for his own. There’s a possessive flavor to his kiss, as though jealous that she’d been indulging her desires through a novel, rather than him. His tongue is aggressive as it pushes its way into her mouth, swallowing her moans along its path. Saliva drips down between their lips as they take short gasps for air. Marx can feel her knees wobble against him, as Kamui slowly slides down the wall. “Your legs,” he whispers as he runs his fingers through her slightly tangled hair, “around me.” With much more effort than she thinks it’ll take, she hooks her legs around his hips. Once he determines that she’s steady enough, he jerks his steadily growing erection against her crotch, gentle enough so that she doesn’t earn too many bruises, yet hard enough so he gets to hear a high pitched moan from his beloved princess.

He worries her lip repeatedly, until it’s pink and turgid. “Keep your arms around me,” Marx murmurs, and she complies. His hands now slip to underneath her shirt and under her breastband. “There were quite a few pages devoted to this part alone,” he says as he cups her breasts and squeezes them lightly. “Watch what I do, princess.”

His mouth abandons hers completely, and ventures to service her neck with lovebites. Each bite he makes is punctuated from a moan from her, building up from her stomach, her chest, her neck, each more guttural than the next. His thumbs swipe across her nipples in teasingly feather light touches, and her peaks grow rock hard in anticipation. “Marx,” she begs, “Please.” Marx's touches remain too light for Kamui's liking, and her undulations grow unsteady from her impatience. “Now this,” he says as his tongue laves across a fresh line of marks over her collarbones, “is the good part. Won’t you ask your husband nicely?”

“Marx please,” she says again, twisting his hair a little too roughly for emphasis. “Touch me.”

“With pleasure.“ Marx pushes up her shirt so that it rests over the swell of her breasts, now completely exposed to him. He pinches her nipples in time with his thrusts, and choruses of her moans compete with the sounds of obscenely loud thuds against the wall. He may leave more marks than he’d intended, but he figures she won’t mind. He’ll just have to make it up with extra love and affection. His lips finally drops it’s patient facade, and they clamp around her breast, freeing the need for his right hand to pleasure it.

The strong flicker of warmth in her stomach now grows to a raging flame, and she can feel her sex aching for well needed release. “Quickly,” Kamui ushers him, her last vowel marred by a groan as he rakes his teeth over her nipple, his fingers still tending to the other one. “Inside me, inside me Marx.” She grits out her words in a manner that Marx is all too familiar with it; when she becomes this insistent he knows he’ll have to pay if he denies his wife her request. He practically rips down her trousers and her underwear so he can get his fingers inside her sex, practically flooded with sopping warmth.

“Now, this is where the story takes quite the turn,” Marx muses to himself as he switches his mouth to her other breast. His tongue pushes against her rosy nub for a few more moments before he returns to kissing her senseless. His mouth is hers again, and he’ll let his fingers do the rest of the job. He situates his digits to her favorite location inside of her, a place that he’s memorized after many a long, heated night. Rub forward, and backwards, and then into little circles…His It shouldn’t be long know, he thinks. He can almost hear the fireworks from her core.

“Marx!” Kamui cries out and digs her fingernails into him so brutally that he’s thankful there’s a layer of clothing to protect his skin. His fingers are now completely soaked, and he watches her heaving body with a very strong sense of satisfaction, and an incredible boost to his ego.

“Not even to the bed, and you’ve already come,” Marx says, and puts his arms around the princess. “Let’s go, love. This chapter isn’t over yet.”

PS. Later, Marx finds out, there’s a whole series dedicated to a prince and a princess. That, Kamui says, is her favorite one.

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted from my blog, imaginefefatesextras.tumblr.com


End file.
